The Road To Hell. Jackie Kessler
desire, blatant action. That’s what I’m talking about.”
“Get yourself a blow-up doll.”
“I prefer the real thing.”
“Can’t help you there.”
“You can.” He cupped my chin, and I felt power pulsing beneath his flesh, knocking against the human shell that hid his horns, his goat’s legs, his tail. “There’ve been so many changes since you left. Hell’s boring, babes. Without the real succubi, there’s no sex any more. Just these frigid bitches with their holier-than-thou attitude and cold stares.”
His hands encircled my waist as his power rippled down my body, slowly, wave after sensual wave. Nipples, down girls! Don’t you dare burst through my bra!
“Come back to Hell.” His breath puffed on my cheek, sweet and full of Sin. “Think of all the sex we’ll have.”
Now his power was stretching farther down my body, filling my belly, my groin, my thighs. Straining to control my body’s reaction, I bit my lip, hard. “Daun, I can’t.”
“Jezebel,” he purred, “you can.”
“I’m not Jezebel any more.”
“Sure you are. You just have a soul now.” He trailed a finger down my jaw. “I wonder how it tastes.”
Through clenched teeth, I said, “You’ll never know.”
Invisible fingers stroked my tits until I groaned. He said, “I love a challenge.”
“Bastard.”
“Flatterer.” The ghostly fingers moved down my body until they brushed against my inner thighs. Wetness gushed against my panties, and I shivered in Daun’s arms. My mouth opened wide as I gasped with pleasure, and Daun crushed his lips against mine.
No, pull away, pull away, pull—
His tongue found mine, and for an unknown amount of time, I was lost in his kiss. Then someone tore me away from him.
My head spun for a moment as I stumbled—my body wanted more, now! but my brain was sending out desperate stop this shit! signals. Then I regained my footing and turned to find Paul standing in front of me, one hand possessively on my arm, the other balled into a fist. I didn’t have to see his face to sense his rage.
Looking up at him, Daun threw his hands up in a universal gesture of My Bad, So Sorry.
“Back off,” Paul growled. “She’s with me.”
“Hey, Shoulders, you’re the one who left her alone.”
“She’s not alone anymore.”
“Yeah, I see that. Got tired of the blonde, came back for brunette, didn’t you? Got to say, I don’t blame you. Jezebel here’s a fine dancer. Especially when she takes off her clothes.” His false blue eyes sparkled with mirth. “Good kisser too. Wonder if she’s a good lay. What do you think, Shoulders? Does she fuck better than she dances?”
Paul’s hand left my arm as he started forward, murder in his eyes.
My heart pounding, I pulled him back. There were only a few times that a demon could attack a mortal, and self-defense was at the top of the list. Daun could rip out Paul’s soul before Paul landed a single punch. “Come on, love,” I said, my voice a high-pitched squeak, “let’s just go.”
“Later, babes,” Daun said to me, doffing an imaginary cap before he launched himself into the thick of the dancers.
Paul took a step after him.
“Paul,” I said, trying to keep my desperation in check, “come on. You were right, this was a bad idea.”
He whirled to face me. “A bad idea? Holy shit, Jesse—some girl cuts in on us, so that gives you the green light to kiss some asshole?”
“I’m sorry,” I said, knowing it wasn’t close to good enough, but what else could I say?
“What is he, one of your regulars at Spice? Or back at Belles? You kiss him a lot there too?”
This was so not the time for Paul to go all boyfriendish on me. “Love, please, I’ve never seen him before.” Not in that form, anyway.
“Yeah, I could tell.”
“Please,” I said again, hating how easy it was for me to beg, “we can talk about this more, all night if you want. But please, let’s just leave now.”
Frustration and anger warred in his eyes, but he nodded curtly before leading me off the dance floor. Before we escaped, another guy reached out, grabbed my arm. I bit back a scream, then let out a ragged breath. Holy fuck in Heaven, my nerves were completely shot.
“It is you!” The kid was pimply faced and eager; if he really was twenty-one, I’d eat my boots. “I remember you from Belles! Jezebel, right?”
“Yeah,” I said, casting a helpless look at Paul, whose face started to purple.
“Man, I loved you,” the kid said, oblivious to the raging bull holding onto my hand. “I heard that place closed down. Where you dancing now?”
“She’s not,” Paul spat. “She just retired.”
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